


Attic Conversations

by vindobonensis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Oblivious Harry Potter, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 21:37:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16395536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vindobonensis/pseuds/vindobonensis
Summary: It's Christmas at Grimmauld Place and Harry can't sleep. But when he wanders around the old house, he finds something he'd never have expected.





	Attic Conversations

The dreary air that usually filled No 12 Grimmauld Place, banished somewhat from the lower floors by the Christmas decorations and general cheer, was present still in full force in the remote part of the uppermost floor that Harry was currently wandering through.

 

The carpeted floors emitted puffs of dust with every silent step the Boy Who Lived took down the dimly lit corridor and the people in the ancient portraits on the oak-panelled walls snored quietly. Behind the panelling, the unsettling scuttling of some sort of magical creature could be heard.

 

Harry sighed and crept onwards. The others had gone to bed hours ago - safe for a few adults who had remained by the fire on the ground floor, sipping Brandy and talking amongst themselves. Ron lay snoring steadily in his bed two floors below, unaware that his roommate had lain in the dark, wide awake, unable to sleep, before deciding to explore the house rather than keep on _thinking._

 

The situation at Hogwarts with the DA, Umbridge’s spite, Snape’s hatred - and above all the dreams that kept haunting his sleep buzzed around Harry’s mind like a swarm of hornets.Even now, he saw long ministry corridors, locked doors, felt the darkness pressing in on his body as it slithered across the ground -

 

Harry stopped dead in the middle of the corridor, and shook his head vehemently. _No._ Getting out of bed and roaming around was supposed to take his mind off the mess he was currently in. He just needed to find _something_ else to occupy his mind. _Anything_ else -

 

" - last Christmas here. It was - not pleasant," a muffled voice said in the gloom.

 

Harry’s head flew up and his eyes narrowed. Some way down the corridor, light from a door that stood slightly ajar fell into the dimly lit corridor.

 

"What happened?" a second voice asked.

 

Trying his best to keep his breath and his steps inaudible, Harry inched closer. Whoever this was - they might be talking about something concerning him. Even the faint chance of overhearing information that had been kept from him for months made Harry’s heart soar with excitement. He fervently wished he’d brought his invisibility cloak along.

 

When he came to stand in front of the door moments later and peeked into the room, he saw Sirius sitting on a dusty old bed, running his hands through his already messy hair. After another few moments, his godfather spoke hesitantly.

 

"The usual. I had a fight with my mother. She caught me writing to you," Sirius laughed weakly and looked up at the person standing opposite him. Harry shuffled a bit to the right and saw that it was Professor Lupin. He was leaning against a dilapidated chest of drawers, arms crossed in front of his chest, looking at Harry’s godfather intently, his expression a mix of pain and pity.

 

Looking down again, Sirius interlaced his fingers on his knees and carried on. "Just - the second I crossed the threshold I wanted to run. There was this huge family meeting set for Boxing Day and everything was polished and prepared for the arrival of all the others - the Lestranges, the Malfoys, the whole lot. Mother dearest ignored me the first two days - buffed up Reggie instead. But when I couldn’t stand it anymore on Christmas Eve and wrote to you and James, she somehow got wind of it - Kreacher I suppose - and -"

 

Harry watched, frozen to the spot, as his godfather broke off with a shaky breath. He knew this had nothing to do with him - that this was none of his business and he oughtn’t eavesdrop on it. It was pure shock that kept him rooted to the spot. He knew Sirius’ family had been bad - but from the sound of it -

 

"What did she do to you?" Professor Lupin demanded sharply, voice vibrating with fury.

 

"Remus, I -" Sirius began pleadingly.

 

"You never told me!" the other Marauder snapped irritably, interrupting him.

 

Sirius sighed and clenched his fists. "You were still mad at me - furious because of the Snape incident," he ground out. "I just - I didn’t want to seem like I was playing the pity card. 'Oh woe is me - mummy Crucio’d me again, have mercy and forgive me my transgressions.' "

 

If Sirius was trying to lighten the mood with his mocking tone, he managed to have the exact opposite effect. "She _Crucio_ ’d you?!" Remus bellowed, drowning out Harry’s gasp of shock in the corridor.

 

 _What the hell?_ Harry thought, reeling internally. Who used an unforgivable curse on their child? The Dursleys were bad, sure, and occasionally took a swing at him - but from what Moody had said, unforgivable curses required lots of magical energy - and hatred.

 

"Only when she couldn’t come up with anything more inventive," Sirius muttered, unclenching his hands and tangling them in his hair again. "Look, Moony - it wasn’t that bad. She hexed me from here to Durmstrang and locked me up. I didn’t eat again before New Year’s Day. But it wasn’t any different from any of the other times she punished me - so can we just - can we just not…" A heavy sigh. "Just being back here brings back the memories. And I really would prefer not to think about it too much."

 

Professor Lupin’s body, which had been taut with fury relaxed instantly when he saw the other man’s defeated posture, heard his pain. With a sigh, he stepped forward.

 

Harry breathed out quietly and tried to unstick his feet from the floor. He should leave. He should have left minutes ago. He’d already known that his godfather’s childhood had been miserable - but to hear confirmed that it had been worse than his own … It felt like the things scuttling behind the wall panelling had been let loose in his stomach instead. He should really get back to his bed and pretend this never happened - except maybe for being more understanding towards Sirus’ frustration at being locked up here. But just as he was turning to go -

 

"Padfoot, love," Professor Lupin’s voice rang out into the corridor.

 

Padfoot _LOVE?_ Alarm bells went off in Harry’s head and he stayed frozen in place.

 

With wide eyes, he watched as his former Professor stepped closer to the bed and came to stand in front of Sirius. He gently placed his hands on his shoulders and without a moment’s hesitation, Harry’s godfather wrapped his arms around the other man’s waist and pulled him forwards, burrowing his face in the werewolf’s chest.

 

Remus’ hands stroked gently across Sirus’ head, his shoulders, and after a minute, he knelt down to return the other man’s hug fully.

 

Harry stared unmoving, unblinking at the scene in front of him.

 

Eventually, Remus pulled away and gently cupped Sirus’ face, looking lovingly into his eyes. "She’s gone," he said firmly. "The bitch is dead and she can never get to you again."

 

A bark of laughter. "Language, Mr. Moony!" Sirius admonished jokingly in a choked voice.

 

For a moment, the two men looked at each other, laughter and pain between them. Then, Sirius pulled the other man forwards in a fierce kiss.

 

White static echoed around Harry’s brain. His eyes numbly registered the scene in front of him - Sirius Black, godfather and Askaban escapee, and Remus Lupin, former Professor and werewolf, making out passionately on the dusty old bed in the attic of No. 12 Grimmauld Place - but his mind absolutely refused to compute. Time warped oddly as the kiss carried on.

 

Remus pulled away what seemed like a second later - even though objectively, it must have been longer, since Sirius was suddenly missing his shirt and Remus had slid forward so that he was now straddling Sirius’ lap on the bed.

 

"We should tell Harry."

 

At the mention of his own name, Harry’s brain seemed to kickstart again.

 

"No."

 

"Sirius - please."

 

"No."

 

"He already has so much being kept from him. And you said yourself - he is not a child anymore."

 

"…"

 

"He won’t hate you."

 

Hate Sirius?! Harry’s perception had seemingly caught up fully now. He stared at the couple in front of him and watched as his godfather buried his face in his former teacher’s collarbone.

 

"He might," the black-haired Marauder said in a small voice, muffled by the other’s woolen jumper.

 

Remus smiled faintly and stroked Sirius’ hair once more. "James didn’t."

 

At that, Sirius pulled away and looked seriously at his friend - his lover. "But like _you_ said - Harry _isn’t_ James. He wasn’t raised by Lily and James or by James’ parents. I don’t know what those Muggles taught him. And I - I just don’t want to risk losing him over this, Moony," Sirius said pleadingly. "I couldn’t stand it."

 

Remus looked back and nodded in defeat a moment later before leaning in for another kiss.

 

Harry started, turned, and hurried back down the corridor as fast as he could without making a noise.


End file.
